So life went on for us and it was good. Sure, we had tough times mixed in with the good but, as our group grew bigger, our community spirit seemed to grow, too. No problem seemed too big to overcome.
Over the subsequent years, new arrivals brought other news of the outside world. Lots of it had to be taken with a grain of salt, but most disturbing of all were the tales about a group called the Marauders. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was the gang led by Ash. And not so much a gang now as an army. One of our scouting teams confirmed the Marauders had indeed based themselves in Ashland not long after the arrival of Joe and Brock’s group and we made a deliberate effort to avoid any contact with them. It was disturbing to know they had flourished even as we ourselves had.
From rumor and eyewitness reports, the Marauders apparently ranged far and wide from their home turf, killing wherever they went. It was lucky we were so remote and away from the highways, but deep down I knew we couldn’t rely on luck to keep us safe forever. We strengthened our fortifications and conserved fuel for the small fleet of vehicles we were amassing in case of a forced evacuation. With each new report, our alert levels would rise but then drop to normal again as time passed incident-free. Eventually, we were finding fewer refugees and thus heard less about Ash and his Marauders.
Within four years, our community had grown to the point we began to discuss the possibility of not taking any more refugees. We were crowded. The buildings we had constructed were ramshackle and the Valley looked like a cross between a rundown trailer park and a medieval village. But even so, we had managed to build a vibrant, peaceful community, with everyone sheltered, fed, and happy.
As a consequence, however, the 813 souls we now numbered stretched our resources to the limit and we knew something would eventually have to give.
The only viable option was moving somewhere else and all of us were reluctant to do that. Indigo and I even more so, given that our son, Max, had been born the year before.
In the ‘before days,’ becoming a father at nineteen would have been something of a scandal and I have to admit it had come as a shock. It shouldn’t have. Indigo and I consummated our relationship barely a month after finding the Valley and we had moved into a room by ourselves not long after. No, I’m not going to give you any details about that first time and how it happened. That’s between Indigo and I, suffice it to say it was surreal, magical, and ... brief.
Of course, there were some awkward moments when we announced we would be moving into a room together. Luke and Ben weren’t exactly the types to let such a development go without a little ribbing and teasing. Altogether however, our relationship transitioned naturally from a crush to the equivalent of a marriage quickly and easily.
Indigo’s initial cluckiness over baby Peace faded pretty quickly when she saw how much hard work a new baby was. And even though we had talked about starting a family from early on in our relationship, it was always understood this would happen somewhere in our future. Birth control was something we were both serious about but, of course, no birth control is perfect and, given the limited supply and life of those products, it was perhaps surprising it didn’t happen sooner.
The afternoon I found out I was going to be a father, I had been working in the vegetable garden with Beau. I didn’t really have any particular assigned ‘job’ like most everybody else in the Valley. I tended to go where I was needed and, that day, when Beau told me he had to catch up on the weeding, I offered to help.
We had gone in to the kitchen at lunchtime for the sandwiches and lemonade Indigo had put out for us. Perhaps I should have seen there was something on her mind as she stood against the kitchen bench, her arms folded across her chest and her face thoughtful, but I was totally clueless, even after being told she needed to speak to me in private after lunch.
I followed her to the living room where Brooke and Ava were sitting playing with Peace.
“I’ve got a good idea,” said Brooke, a look passing between her and Indigo which even I didn’t fail to notice. “Why don’t we go outside and see the rabbits?”
“What a good idea,” said Ava, bending over and scooping up Peace into her arms.
Brooke must have seen the wary look on my face. “Don’t look so worried, Isaac,” she said, cheekily.
“What’s going on?” I asked, after they left.
Indigo sat down and patted the sofa beside her. I sat down. Indigo had a strange smile on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly her face crumpled and tears welled in her eyes.
I reached out and grabbed her hand, alarmed. “What is it?”
I watched her struggle to regain control, wiping a tear from her eye.
“You’re going to be a dad,” she said, before bursting into tears and burying her head in my shoulder.
It’s hard to describe what I felt in those first few wonderful, scary moments. The most amazing wave of joy washed over me. It was the most physical emotion I have ever felt, starting with a jolt deep in my chest which emanated like a tide of well-being through the rest of me. I began to cry, too. They were tears of joy, just like the cliché, and I hugged Indigo to me, both of us rocking back and forth, crying and laughing.
“Why are we crying?” I asked Indigo, when we had finally calmed down. “This is really great news! We should be dancing.”
“I know! I don’t know why. I’m scared, I guess, scared and really, really happy. And I didn’t know how you would feel.”
“I feel amazing, Indigo,” I said, looking into her eyes. “Better than I’ve ever felt in my entire life!”
She hugged me again.
“Me, too.”
16
Our healthy, pink baby boy, Max, was born nine months later. Did it feel strange to be a dad? Hell yes! But it was a wonderful kind of strange. And after he came along, I couldn’t imagine life without Max. Indigo was a fantastic mother and the two of us became even closer as we went through the trials of parenthood. After what seemed a long, long time, I suddenly had a family to call my own again.
Even with the overcrowding, the thought of moving my young family and everyone else — when we had order, fresh food, water, and safety — was just something none of us wanted to think about.
Don’t get me wrong. Life in the Valley wasn’t what you would call easy. In fact, it was hard. Really hard. We lost people through accidents, and illness, and — especially traumatic for Indigo — we even lost a mother during childbirth.
We had to make tough decisions, such as banishing people who turned out to be troublemakers. It sounds harsh, I know, but we didn’t have anywhere to jail people and it wasn’t worth the trouble to try and rehabilitate them. In the first year, we had come up with a rudimentary code of conduct, which is, I guess, the closest thing to law and order a bunch of kids could have.
That code of conduct was pretty much don’t steal and don’t fight. If you did one of those things, you got a strike against your name. If you did it a second time, you were out. Anything worse than stealing or fighting resulted in instant banishment. We even had a vote on if, God forbid, anyone committed murder whether we would carry out the death penalty. It was a close vote, but it was defeated, banishment being the preferred option for the majority. I hoped we never had to test that decision.
As decreed that very first night in the Valley, we held an election every year before our Thanksgiving Day. The first two years, Luke, Indigo, and I were reinstalled, unopposed, as the triumvirate. After Max was born, Indigo decided not to run as a candidate and Jamal was elected unanimously to our leadership group of three.
As we entered our fifth year in the Valley there occurred several notable events. On a personal note, Luke and I both turned twenty. Our birthdays were only a month apart and, speaking for myself, it seemed a bit of a milestone. There were no big celebrations or anything, just a feeling we had passed ‘officially’ into adulthood. It was silly, really. We had been adults for a long time through what we’d experienced.
O
ne morning, not long after my birthday, there came an urgent knocking at our door. Dawn was only just touching the sky. With my heart beating hard in my chest, I ran to the door to find a sleep-tousled Luke jumping from foot to foot. Brooke stood behind him, looking sheepish.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Guess!” Luke said excitedly as Indigo joined us at the door.
“Sorry guys,” said Brooke, biting her lip. “I told him to wait ‘til breakfast ... ”
“We’re having a baby!”
Luke leapt into my arms and I staggered back under the weight of his heavy body. I managed to keep my feet until he jumped off and engulfed a delighted Indigo in a gentler bear hug.
“Oh my God, that’s so great!” Indigo exclaimed, embracing Brooke after Luke released her.
It turns out they had been trying for six months without telling anybody. I watched Luke standing over Max’s cot and felt a warmth for him. I thought it would be great if they had a boy, a playmate for Max, but I knew, boy or girl, Luke and Brooke would be fantastic parents.
On a bigger note, with overcrowding as our top issue, we put a referendum to the people. It was decided by an overwhelming yes vote we would not accept any refugees for the following twelve months into the community. It was a win for common sense and came as a huge relief.
So we moved into our fifth year in the Valley happy and optimistic about the future. It sounds cliché but, for me, and I’m sure for all of us there, those years in the Valley were the best of our lives. Now that we had the population question settled, it would hopefully be our home for many years more.
PART 2 - RUDE AWAKENING
17
My eyes snapped open. I stared up at the moonlit shadows on the ceiling, wondering if the loud bang had been from a dream I couldn’t remember.
“That was a gunshot.”
Indigo’s soft voice beside me dispelled any doubt that I had dreamed it. I quickly got out of bed and began pulling on my jeans as a burst of automatic gunfire, followed by a distant scream, sent a jolt of electricity through me. We’re under attack.
I half-fell/sat on the bed and began to pull on my boots, my fingers suddenly clumsy with alarm. Indigo was already out of bed and carefully bundling up the still sleeping Max.
Bang, bang, bang.
“Quick, you better get him down to the basement. We should get all the girls down there.”
“Yep,” Indigo said, all business now.
I went to the closet and pulled my pistol and a rifle out and ran to the door. Indigo waited for me there and we kissed as Ben and Luke ran down the hallway past us.
“Come on, lovebird,” said Luke, his voice sounding excited and not at all scared. “Those shots came from the gate.”
“Be careful,” said Indigo.
“I will. Make sure you take some guns down to the basement, and don’t come out until you hear one of us give the all clear.”
I kissed Max on the top of the head and Brooke arrived carrying a pistol just as I turned to run after my two friends.
“Make sure Luke doesn’t do anything crazy!” she called after me.
We flew down the stairs two at a time and ran through the living room, bursting out of the blue door onto the verandah.
It was a dark night and my eyes took a few seconds to adjust as we sped up the hill towards the screaming, shouting, and shooting. More of our people were running from the direction of the barn and the living quarters around it. Some were whooping with excitement, others wide-eyed with fear. It was hard not to get caught up in the excitement, our fear of the unknown balanced by the feeling of camaraderie and safety in numbers.
Luke was a lanky shadow loping ahead of us and he slowed as we approached Boot Hill, a large mound the drive curled around before it straightened and went on to the gates. He turned and motioned all of us to slow and made a chopping motion against his throat with his hook. The whooping of the others slowly subsided as we caught up to him.
The crack of gunfire continued behind the small hill. Luke did a quick headcount as we gathered around.
“You eight,” he pointed. “Continue along the driveway, single file, and stick as close to the hill as you can. Isaac, Ben, and I will go around —”
He was interrupted by an almighty crash from the direction of the gate followed by the shriek of metal on metal and roar of an engine.
“Come on, they’re through!” yelled Luke.
We ran after him. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I felt a righteous anger that someone had dared break through our gate and come at my people. We rounded the hill and began towards the gate. I could make out about twelve shapes on foot, climbing over the debris of the gate and the part of the wall that had caved in with it.
In front of them, speeding towards us, was the vehicle which had broken through our defenses. It was an olive green truck with a heavy metal grate fastened to its front-end and steel plates over its windshield. There were two narrow horizontal slits for the driver to see through and the plating was clearly not part of the original design.
I could see shapes scattered around the wreckage of the gate. Bodies. The bodies of our people. A snarl escaped my lips as I began to shoot at the interlopers. Most of the others with us were not armed with guns but, thankfully, all of the attackers didn’t appear to be armed either. Perhaps surprised by our numbers, the invaders began to slow and fall in behind the vehicle which had now slowed to provide cover. I saw at least two invaders return my fire.
One of our guys fell, winged, a quiet kid with blonde hair who had only arrived a year before. My next shot found its mark and the shooter fell, holding his belly. I saw Luke from the corner of my eye. He stopped, half turned, and raised his small crossbow, bracing it on his hook.
The remaining enemy gunman saw Luke and took aim at him, even as he became a target himself. I began to bring my gun around too, when an enraged shriek to my right distracted me. A kid from our side was running at the gunman, a tomahawk raised above his head. The enemy didn’t hesitate. He turned his automatic weapon on the kid and let off a burst of gunfire that ceased a split second later when the arrow from Luke’s crossbow found him.
Both the invader and the kid with the tomahawk crashed to the ground a few feet apart, the enemy clutching at the bolt in his chest and the kid from our side silent and bloody.
Luke threw his crossbow to the ground. It was only good for one shot because he was unable to reload quickly with his one hand. He pulled a pistol from his belt and began shooting at the slots in the truck’s armored windshield. I fired off a shot too, then decided to concentrate on the fighters sheltering behind the vehicle.
I managed to hit one just as the others from our side reached the now almost stationary vehicle, swarming around it and engaging the enemy in vicious, close quarters combat.
From my position to the left of the vehicle, I got a good look at the driver, the glow of the dashboard just enough to display his features. It wasn’t Ash. I had no doubt our attackers were from his gang of Marauders, but the driver’s eyes were dark, not the eerie light blue of their leader.
The driver snarled as Luke’s well aimed bullets pinged around the slit and hit the gas, obviously deciding enough was enough. He aimed straight for Luke, just missing two more of our defenders as they dived out of the way.
Luke waited until the last possible second, then dove out of the way of the two tons of metal death barreling at him. He wasn’t quite quick enough; the edge of the heavy grate on the front of the truck smacked his ankle, sending him spinning into the dirt. The driver swung around and rushed back up the hill before pulling up sharply near the fighting, the truck’s tires spitting dirt and gravel.
“Grab one of them, Thompson!” the driver yelled.
I broke into a run. The one called Thompson jumped out and snatched one of our smaller boys. I recognized him as Benjamin, a kid originally from Joe and Brock’s group. Thompson was bundling him into the passenger door by the time I got there. I couldn’t
shoot without the possibility of hitting Benjamin, so I ran at them, hoping to wrestle him away before he was taken.
The driver grabbed Benjamin by the hair and floored the gas again, taking off even before his own guy could get back in safely. I dove, grabbing the one called Thompson’s leg as he struggled to climb into the moving vehicle behind their captive.
Thompson held on grimly and used his other leg to kick at me. I could hear Benjamin calling out for help, but it was no use. My grip began to slip, the buffeting of the dirt driveway on my legs and feet making it impossible to hold on. Finally, I fell away, rolling several times before coming to a halt. I held nothing for my efforts but a worn running shoe.
I climbed to my feet, remarkably undamaged by my struggle and subsequent fall. I took aim and shot at the rear tires in one last effort to stop the speeding truck. I missed and watched helplessly as the truck careened back over the rubble of the gate and out onto the road.
“Fuck!” I yelled in frustration before running back to the fighting.
I got there as more of our people began arriving. Some of the invaders fled after the truck, obviously not liking the odds, but the rest continued to fight.
I tried to aim at the invaders in the melee, but there was no way I could shoot the enemy without risking my own people. I took the option of firing a shot into the air. It had the desired effect. Everybody froze and I pointed my gun at the face of one of them. It was a kid with a shaved head and freckled face. He immediately dropped his weapon, a short bloodstained axe, and held up his hands.
The other three looked like they were considering fighting on when Luke arrived, his gun and hook glinting in the moonlight. His appearance seemed to help them make the right decision and they also dropped their weapons and put up their hands.
“Get on the ground,” Luke screamed at them.
They dropped and Ben began to collect their weapons, an assortment of modified tools. Luke holstered his gun and picked up the axe the freckle-faced kid had dropped.
The After Days Trilogy [Books 1-3] Page 56